


under the quiet lights of your eyes at night

by croissantbleu



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Dark Continent Arc, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croissantbleu/pseuds/croissantbleu
Summary: It's not that he doesn't think Kurapika can handle it. It's that he cares a little too much, too strongly, until he doesn't always know where reality ends and hope begins.So when Kurapika shows up at his door one night, after having gone radio silent for a week, with blood trickling down his temple, Leorio isn't going to waste any time before letting him in.“I'm still not legally qualified to stitch that up,” is all he says.Kurapika doesn't quite smile, but almost, exhaustion painfully obvious in the way it pulls at the corner of his eyes.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	under the quiet lights of your eyes at night

Leorio thinks that, despite everything great about him, despite the way he's always the first and last thought on his mind, Kurapika is a pain in the ass.

It's hard not to, when that first thought is usually "did he make it through the night?" crossing through his brain as soon as he's awake, and that last one a half-coherent prayer to gods he doesn't believe in for him to make it through the night. 

It's not that he doesn't think Kurapika can handle it. It's that he's not sure Kurapika can handle it in the state he's in. He sees it just fine - the dark circles he tries to hide, the way his clothes hang a little baggier on his shoulders now, the deep set line between his brows that never seems to really go away - everything he's determined to hide. Except Leorio's a med student, and he's not as dumb as people make him out to be, and he knows Kurapika well enough to know exactly where to look.

It's painful, really, sharp point between his ribs and diffuse throbbing under his skull when Kurapika won't answer his phone and he gets caught up in worry. 

It's not that he doesn't think Kurapika can handle it. It's that he cares a little too much, too strongly, until he doesn't always know where reality ends and hope begins. 

So when Kurapika shows up at his door one night, after having gone radio silent for a week, with blood trickling down his temple, Leorio isn't going to waste any time before letting him in.

“I'm still not legally qualified to stitch that up,” is all he says.

Kurapika doesn't quite smile, but almost, exhaustion painfully obvious in the way it pulls at the corner of his eyes. “I know. It'll heal on its own. I'm not here for a medical check-up.”

Leorio doesn't ask what he's here for. He asks if he wants some tea. He's decided to ignore the late hour of the night, and Kurapika must be on a similar wavelength, because he says yes. There’s peace in making tea, Leorio has found, held in the whizzing sound of the water boiling and the mechanical gestures, like a soothing ritual. Kurapika likes his coffee black, he knows, but he’ll take a large spoon of honey in his tea, and Leorio will complain and insist that sugar does the exact same job but there’s always a jar of honey in his cupboard.

Despite what he said, he finds himself leaning over Kurapika’s wound after he gave him his tea, grumbling and repeating that he needs to stop getting hurt and not do anything about it, even when he knows he can’t be very convincing with how gently he’s dabbing at the cut with disinfectant. 

“I told you it was fine, Leorio,” Kurapika says, but it’s not like he’s really tried to talk him out of it. Maybe he knows it’s useless.

“Head wounds are the most likely to get infected if you don’t treat them,” he argues. That’s a blatant lie. “And that was caused by a blade, and I don’t know what the fuck was on it but they’re always pretty nasty. You’d think these bastards would learn to clean their weapons, but no - you wouldn’t believe the stuff that’s on there sometimes-”

He keeps rambling on because it makes him forget, forget about the blood on Kurapika’s clothes he knows isn’t his, forget that while he’s here now he could very well be gone the next day, forget about the thing hanging in the air between them, heavy and draped around their shoulders and that he doesn’t know if they’ll ever talk about - now is not the time, not when Kurapika is still running after his vengeance and his promise, not when Leorio never knows when he’ll see him again, not when he doesn’t know if there will ever be a right time. 

Kurapika has closed his eyes sometime during Leorio’s monologue, the ghost of a smile maybe dancing on his lips, and he looks so painfully young, even to Leorio who’s only two years older, that he thinks his heart breaks a little.

“Thank you,” he says when Leorio is done applying the dressing.

His eyes are calm when he opens them again, quiet grey oceans that Leorio has come to miss under the dark contacts he always wears, that look like they’re holding the directions to the universe. 

“Don’t thank me,” Leorio grumbles, taking his cup on tea that’s on the verge of going cold. “Be careful next time, and I won’t have to patch you up.”

His voice steels on the _next time_ , because he hates knowing there will be a next time and many others after that, and he hates knowing there’s nothing he can do about it.

Kurapika is too good at his job to miss it, and Leorio is too good at his to miss the way his hands clutch his cup just a little tighter.

“Leorio…”

“I’m not asking you to give up,” he shrugs. _I’m not asking you to betray them_ , he hopes Kurapika understands, because that’s what this has always been about. “Just- be careful, yeah? Don’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere without telling me about it.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“And call me back, sometimes!” Leorio presses on, because maybe he doesn’t want to think about the relief he sees hiding in the tension Kurapika’s holding in his shoulders. “Or, better, stop ignoring my calls! I know you’re a busy guy and all, but look at me,” he points his thumb at himself, and Kurapika raises an eyebrow, barely enough to be noticeable, but Leorio finds it the perfect incentive. “I’m in med school, and I still find the time to check in on you! And Killua and Gon! And you physically can’t be busier than a med student, so you really don’t have any excuse.”

“I’ll try to do better,” Kurapika says, and Leorio wishes he wasn’t holding the cup before his face, because that voice suggests that he’s smiling a little more than the usual hints of it, and Leorio hasn’t seen his genuine smile in so long he might be getting withdrawal symptoms.

“Good! Give us a call sometimes, and don’t get yourself killed. I think you can manage that.”

“I said I would, Leorio,” and the potential smile is gone now and Kurapika is rolling his eyes at his insistence, but he still sounds amused so, he takes that for a win.

He always forgets just how much he misses their banter until he’s right in front of him again.

“You can crash here for the night,” he says before checking the time. “Well, what’s left of it anyways. No point in going all the way across the city at this hour, eh?”

Kurapika takes a moment before answering, and the experience of a dozen times this situation tells Leorio he won’t stay. It’s the same thing that always happens, Kurapika slipping away the moment he feels that he’s opening up too much. Leorio’s learned to be patient. It’s not the right time, anyways, won’t be for a long while. But he can wait.

“Thank you,” Kurapika starts. “Your couch is comfortable.”

Leorio looks at him. “You’re staying?”

He shrugs. “It’s late,” he says, not backing down from his gaze. “You offered.”

Leorio doesn’t point out that he always offers and that Kurapika always refuses. He just stands up and says he’s going to get him an extra blanket.

“Kurapika,” he pauses at the door. “You said you didn’t come here for a medical check-up. Then, why?”

Kurapika looks into his empty cup, like he’s looking for an answer in the chipped edge of it, that lets a shard of white pierce through the red paint.

“No reason,” his voice sounds clear when he finally speaks. “I just wanted to see you.”

Leorio grins, wide enough that he feels it in his whole face. “What d’ya mean, “no reason”? That’s an excellent one. Okay! Let me find this blanket.”

And it’s still not the right time to talk about anything but maybe, just maybe, it’s a start. Maybe this is how they’ll get to that right time. Maybe it’s closer than he’d thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I finally watched all of hxh this past week, and of course my first work for the fandom had to be leopika. That was my first attempt at writing them, so I hope you liked it!  
> Please feel free to leave a comment or find me on twitter [@transkrpk](https://twitter.com/transkrpk) !


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